


The Problem Was... That Kazakh Pee

by annabeth



Series: Under the Golden Sea [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bad boy beka, Jjbek, M/M, Omorashi, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Underage - Freeform, Watersports, mentions of underage sex/drug use/alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 06:09:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12524764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth/pseuds/annabeth
Summary: The problem was Otabek Altin. Everything in JJ's life right then revolved around Otabek.Or: JJ discovers he has a kink he didn't even know existed.





	The Problem Was... That Kazakh Pee

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Otabek Week day 3 on Tumblr, prompt being "bad boy" in this case.

"Where is he?" JJ muttered, tromping around in the underbrush. He was trying to keep hidden, stepping around his house in the shadows, because his Maman would murder him if she knew he was out this late.

The problem was Otabek Altin. Everything in JJ's life right then revolved around Otabek. It wasn't just that he was gorgeous; he was cool. Between the smoldering dark eyes, defined muscles, and beautiful lips, and the leather jacket, the motorcycle, and the fact that he had the guts to smoke cigarettes, Otabek Altin was the whole package. Right down to his, uh, package—which JJ had been trying to get a glimpse of for forever.

The problem was Otabek Altin was shy. Or at least, it seemed like it. He didn't wave it around like JJ and some of the other kids had when they were younger. He didn't even shower with them after skating. He always waited till the locker room cleared out, with a quiet, "wait for me here, Jean," and JJ always waited.

The problem was Otabek Altin was also crazy. He was wild. He was the living embodiment of lust for life. He was also missing—he'd sneaked out—and probably drunk, because more than once on a Friday night JJ had awoken to Otabek creeping back in, eyes bloodshot and smelling of a liquor store. He'd tried to get Otabek to give up his secrets, but Otabek was also, well…

The problem was Otabek Altin was stoic to a fantastical degree. Getting him to smile was next to impossible, but if you did it, you were a hero. Except he'd never smiled for anyone except some slender young blond skater he sometimes watched on his tablet or his phone. And sometimes, if JJ was being ridiculous enough, Otabek would give him a tiny grin. It made JJ feel like he ruled the world, a king in truth and not just in fantasy.

The problem was…

"Oh, _shit_ ," JJ said, taking great pleasure in cursing, "seriously, he's gonna get in so much trouble this time." He was still trying to keep to the darker areas of the nighttime, because streetlights were the enemy, and they were everywhere.

But JJ was really too tall to stay completely out of sight, so he sighed with relief and relaxed as soon as he got away from his house. A couple blocks away, he found Otabek weaving down the lane, a bottle in one hand and swaying like he might crash to the ground at any moment, a meteor drawn to the earth.

JJ quickly rushed up to him, steadying him with an arm around his shoulders.

"How much did you drink?" JJ hissed into the darkness, fairly close to Otabek's ear.

"Oh, enough," Otabek replied vaguely. "Hold up, Jean."

JJ stopped obediently, wondering what Otabek's problem was—was he going to throw up?

"Are you going to thro—" JJ's words halted themselves like a train suddenly stopped on the tracks. Otabek was _not_ going to throw up. At least, not right that minute. No.

The problem was, Otabek Altin had just unzipped his jeans in front of some stranger's—though probably a neighbor's—bushes. He tipped his head back as if gazing at the stars and let out a soft, "ah," as he began… JJ couldn't believe his eyes. Otabek Altin, of the strange and vaunted modesty, was not only holding his dick out in plain view, but he was _pissing in the bushes_.

JJ tried not to look, at first. But his desperate desire to see overwhelmed his own inner moral compass, and he began to stare openly. Otabek was lost to this world, apparently; his hand was shaking where he held his dick, and he was definitely about to piss on his shoes.

The problem was, if he pissed on his shoes, he'd track it into JJ's house. JJ couldn't let that happen, right? So he leaned up against Otabek's back, reached around, and covered his fingers with his own fingers. He tilted it away from Otabek's shoes, and as he held him in his hand, watching piss stream out hot into the evening air, JJ noticed something curious. Then his ears went hot.

The problem was, JJ was finding himself enjoying this. Not holding Otabek, though he liked that too. No, as he watched Otabek, caught in a web of his own making, he began to get hard—at the _sight of him pissing_. It smelled acrid, and JJ wasn't a big fan of that, but there was something so damn—yes, he said (well, thought) it—erotic about it. About watching Otabek with his guards down and his tender insides exposed. Well, okay, it was his cock that was exposed. And by this point, Otabek had been pissing _forever_.

The problem was, the longer it went on, the more aroused JJ got, and the more confused. He'd never felt this way before. Not about boys; he'd had thoughts about them before, and was nursing the world's largest crush on Otabek. But before this, relieving himself had just been about that, relief. Now it was something more. JJ found himself wondering what it would be like to… play around a bit. He wondered if Otabek would want to watch _him_ pee. If he could even do it with an audience. His Catholic sensibilities were setting off mental alarms all over the place.

JJ didn't fucking care. He blasted all the alarms to smithereens and tried to get an even better vantage point.

"Fuck," Otabek whispered. "That felt good. I think my whole left leg was nothing but liquid." The stream petered out, then stopped altogether. JJ found himself disappointed, and kind of sad. Some part of him had started to hope that it would go on forever.

"Let's go home," JJ said back, helping Otabek shake off the last drops and tucking him back inside his underwear. His own underwear were damp. He was hard as anything and he hoped Otabek hadn't noticed. "My parents will murder us both if they catch us, especially with you in this state."

"I'm drunk, not dead," Otabek replied, as if that made any sense. "I'm also flying _high_." This last word was spoken in falsetto, and kind of loud. Without thinking, JJ clapped the hand that had been on Otabek's dick over his mouth.

"That's great, you can sleep it off in my bedr—"

"I'd like to be in your bed," Otabek said, speaking muffled behind JJ's hand. "I'd fuck you until _you_ felt drunk."

"And then—you what?" JJ almost stopped trying to drag Otabek along, his ears ringing as if he hadn't heard what he'd thought he'd just heard.

"Your hand," Otabek said, and JJ yanked it back, "it smells like sex."

"Did you go out and party and get lucky?" JJ asked, appalled. Otabek gave him a secretive smile, somewhat bigger than any smile JJ had so far accomplished from him.

"Nooo," he said softly, "I think maybe _you_ smell like sex, Jean." Then he winked. JJ couldn't believe his own eyes. Otabek winking at him was stranger and more provoking than whipping his dick out and pissing in some bushes had been. JJ swallowed. He'd thought he was already as hard as it was possible to be, but his dick swelled even more, and JJ began to think he was going to cream his jeans.

The problem was simple: JJ had a crush on Otabek, and he was in way over his head. And it seemed like Otabek knew it. JJ had thought he'd been such a ninja when it came to hiding his feelings, yet one provocative comment from Otabek and he thought he'd lose it like a kid just discovering how his dick worked.

"Hang on. Stop here," Otabek said, and sounding slightly more sober, he grabbed JJ's shirt collar and tugged him into another copse of bushes. These were a tall hedge, and they were enveloped in immediate, soft darkness as soon as they were behind them.

"What are you doing?" JJ said with a slight squeak to his voice. Shit! But Otabek just raised an eyebrow—JJ thought that was so cool, how Otabek could lift just one with haughty precision.

"Did you like watching me piss, Jean?" Otabek asked, but without waiting for an answer his hand was opening JJ's jeans and reaching inside. Oh, it was embarrassing—

The problem was, JJ was already so overstimulated, that it only took two strokes of that strong, capable hand before JJ was whimpering into Otabek's palm—now covering his mouth—and coming all over his hand and his own jeans.

"There." Otabek sounded entirely too satisfied. He removed his hand from JJ's mouth, wiped his other hand on the grass, and gently straightened JJ's clothes.

But the problem was, JJ wanted to see Otabek get off. He tried to find his jeans in the dark, but suddenly _he_ felt like the drunk one, and then that strong hand was over his, guiding him. And by the Holy Mother and all the Saints, Otabek was nice and deliciously stiff beneath his palm.

"You wanna do something about that for me?" Otabek asked, and JJ nodded before he realized Otabek might not be able to see it in the dark.

"God, yes," he said, and got to work. It was heaven wrapped in the musky scent of sex and piss.

JJ didn't mind it at all. Just like that, all his problems vanished into thin air, like wisps of smoke, as if they'd never existed.

end.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me (helm-puppet-trash) on [Tumblr](http://helm-puppet-trash.tumblr.com)!


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